He had drifted in among us as a straw drifts with the tide, <br />He was just a wand'ring mongrel from the weary world outside; <br />He was not aristocratic, being mostly ribs and hair, <br />With a hint of spaniel parents and a touch of native bear. <br />He was very poor and humble and content with what he got, <br />So we fed him bones and biscuits, till he heartened up a lot; <br />Then he growled and grew aggressive, treating orders with disdain, <br />Till at last he bit the butcher, which would argue want of brain. <br /> <br />Now the butcher, noble fellow, was a sport beyond belief, <br />And instead of bringing actions he brought half a shin of beef, <br />Which he handed on to Fido, who received it as a right <br />And removed it to the garden, where he buried it at night. <br /> <br />'Twas the means of his undoing, for my wife, who'd stood his friend, <br />To adopt a slang expression, "went in off the deepest end", <br />For among the pinks and pansies, the gloxinias and the gorse <br />He had made an excavation like a graveyard for a horse. <br /> <br />Then we held a consultation which decided on his fate: <br />'Twas in anger more than sorrow that we led him to the gate, <br />And we handed him the beef-bone as provision for the day, <br />Then we opened wide the portal and we told him, "On your way."<br /><br />Andrew Barton Paterson<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-dog-s-mistake/
